Brothers
by Little Miss Banana
Summary: The battle seen though Enjolras' eyes... Sort of AU. NO SLASH. Completely brotherly relationships, if the title didn't convince you. Rated T because this is Les Miserables, and there are character deaths.


**Disclaimer: I don't own Les Miserables. If I did, I would not be here writing fanfiction.**

**I have meddled slightly with the ages of some of the characters. Marius is sixteen. Some of the characters might be a little OOC, I hope not, but that might be the case. Any relationships are purely platonic, and/or brotherly. Apart from Marius any Cosette. There is NO slash, like I said, mainly brotherly relationships (In case the title didn't convince you.) This is sort of AU, it has a few new things, like Marius getting sick. It follows the main events in Les Mis, but not everything will be the same, and it will not be quoting Les Mis word from word. A few characters will survive the barricades that didn't originally. (I have only watched the film so the story and it's events will coincide with that.) This is rated for character death. (When I watched the film, I realiz****ed that nearly everyone dies. :c). I have made sure to rectify that slightly**

**Also, though I know quite a lot of people say this, and most who read this will probably just disregard this piece of information, I am only thirteen, so please, if you take the time to review, I would be grateful if you'd not use rude words. If you spot any spelling mistakes or typo's, would you please tell me so I can improve it.**

* * *

Brothers

* * *

"Only one man speaks for us! General Lamarque!"

Enjolras glanced at Marius from the corner of his eye, before turning to Courfeyrac, who had just appeared from the large almost-mansion behind.

"Lamarque is fading. Nearly dead." He whispered harshly, his voice cracking.

Enjolras nodded, his face contorting, there went the only hope that this wasn't going to turn bloody.

"General Lamarque is ill, very so!" He cried out the the thick crowds that had formed. "He might not survive the week! That's what they say."

The people were silent, but the air was thick with tension. They were waiting, Enjolras realized, waiting for someone, anyone to say something.

"The judgement day nears! We are angry, so we will fight! We cut will down those so high and mighty, the barricades will rise!"

The cries were deafening, the crowd roared with anger, and determination, and Enjolras knew he had chosen right.

He had asked Marius to help him speak to the people just minutes before, and he was glad he wasn't regretting it, the boy was good with words. The real reason, however, was that he wanted to keep an eye on him. Trouble seemed to stalk Marius, and then would pounce on him when he and the rest of the students least expected it.

Enjolras leapt from the platform he had been standing on, and he heard someone following close behind, but when he turned he saw the mass of people swarming around him. He shook his head to clear it. Where _was_ that kid? The moment he took his eyes off him he seemed to just disappear.

No, trouble didn't try to find Marius, he found it.

"Marius!" He hollered, scanning the crowds for a slightly smaller than average sixteen year old with messy dark hair.

Someone appeared beside him, "The kid's gone again?"

It was Courfeyrac.

"Yes." Enjolras answered stiffly, still glancing around. "I swear, it's like he tries..." He trailed off as he stared at something ahead of them.

Marius was speaking softly and quietly to an old man, dressed richly, in clothes of deep blue, and Enjolras realized this must be his Grandfather.

Suddenly the man raised his hand, and Courfeyrac and Enjolras watched in ill-disguised horror, as the hand came down in one sharp slap upon the surprised boy's face.

However, surprise gave way to hurt, and Marius flinched as the hand was raised again. Enjolras found himself walking forwards suddenly and quickly, hearing snippets of the conversation.

"...You insolent boy! Don't you think I know what you're up to? You, the one who brings shame upon our family!"

"Marius!" He took him by the arm and propelled him towards Courfeyrac, who slung an arm over the boy's shoulders.

He then turned towards the seething royalist, "I hope we weren't interrupting," He said smoothly, "But we have some business with your Grandson."

His tone broke no room for argument, and as they turned to walk away they heard the old man cry, quite violently, "No wonder you're so much like your damn father!"

Marius trembled slightly beside him, before shaking his head, seeming to quell the shivers that were wracking his body by force.

Enjolras sneered in anger, oh, though the revolution was still a growing idea, it was becoming more and more inviting by the hour. If it wasn't to help those so poor, that they had to beg, to throw away their dignity, then it was to bring down those who were so rich, they felt they could do as they pleased. All in all, it made him sick.

"Vive la France!"

He turned his attention to a pack of small children. Their cry rose through the streets, and more and more of those around started to call it too, already roused by the rally given.

"Vive la France!"

He glanced around to see Gavroche at the center of all the commotion. Of course it would be him, the little gamin always did seem to be there these days, getting into almost as much trouble as Marius did.

"Vive la France!" The boy in question yelled darting from Courfeyrac's half embrace. "Vive la France!"

Enjolras shook his head, "He'll be alright." He muttered. He glanced at Courfeyrac, "I'm going to the Cafe."

Courfeyrac nodded, and disappeared into the crowds, probably to search for Gavroche. They had always had a close bond, and though all the students had a certain fondness for the little boy, he only really ever spoke to Courfeyrac.

Enjolras walked away from the shouting, it was making his head hurt. He knew he should probably be out there with the rest of the revolutionaries, but he was tired. He just needed a drink.

* * *

"Who was that girl?" Marius whispered to Eponine, his eyes fixed on the spot where blonde haired girl once stood.

"I don't know." Eponine answered tightly, and Marius looked at her in surprise, her young voice was cold, and her dark eyes were distant.

She felt sick, and as Marius asked her to find out where that girl lived, she felt she could not refuse him. She ran forward into the shadows, she was sure she knew where they had gone. Racing down the darkened alley, and into another, she followed the sound of horses hooves clattering along stone cobbles.

* * *

"General Lamarque is dead." Little Gavroche proclaimed.

Marius rubbed his head, it was aching, and he saw Enjolras glancing at him.

Eponine was standing by the door and she beckoned Marius over. His eyes lit up, had she been able to find out where the lovely girl lived?

He raced towards the stairs, pausing to shake the dizzy feeling that had overcome him. Feeling someone's eyes on him, he turned to see Enjolras watching him carefully, but before he could dwell on it, Eponine had dragged him out the door and into the street below.

* * *

Marius stumbled into the café. It was almost night, he knew, and his head felt heavy. Come to think of it, just about everything felt heavy. He hadn't been feeling well since Eponine had taken him to see Cosette, not that it was anything to do with either girl. He just felt tired.

Cosette. The name suited her perfectly. Though she was perhaps a year older than him, she was very small and delicate, looking closer to fifteen than seventeen. Maybe he hadn't fallen in love with her yet, but he knew he was close.

"Marius?" Courfeyrac was suddenly beside him. "You okay kid? You look like you've seen a ghost."

He shrugged, and rubbed a hand over his eyes. "I'm alright."

Courfeyrac didn't look convinced. "Are you sure?"

"Yes, quite."

"Okay then." Courfeyrac grabbed his arm and towed him towards a table, around which sat an annoyed Enjolras, a drunken Grantaire, and Combeferre who seemed to be reading some sort of medical text, and Marius was quite sure he wouldn't be able to make head or tail of it.

"Ah! Marius, Courfeyrac! Here to join our humble little group?" Grantaire bellowed, clutching a large bottle of what looked to be wine, though honestly, there probably wasn't much left in there.

Enjolras shot an irritated look at Grantaire, "You might not have anything to do, but don't let the rest of us suffer because of that."

Grantaire just laughed, "Well, my friend, you just carry on with your little speech, and I'll-"

Enjolras slammed his fist down on the table, and Marius winced at the pain that pounded through his skull.

"This is not a little speech! You must understand!" Enjolras cried, leaping from his seat. "We need a sign. To rally the people!"

Marius put his head in his hands and shuddered, his headache was growing.

"It's time for us all to decide who we are! Our little lives don't matter any more! Tomorrow shall decide our fate, our people will fight!"

Marius leapt up, "Enjolras _please_, stop shouting." He shivered, why was it so cold?

"Marius?"

Courfeyrac was right beside him, pushing him back down into his chair, "What on earth is the matter kid? You're completely out of it."

Shivering again, Marius rested his aching head on the table top, "I'm fine."

"No, you're not." Courfeyrac muttered, sounding slightly annoyed, "Why didn't you say so earlier?"

Someone placed a hand on his forehead, "He's got a fever."

"Open your eyes Marius." The same voice said gently

Marius opened his eyes to see Enjolras sitting across from him.

"How long have you been feeling unwell?"

So Enjolras had noticed.

Marius just shrugged, drained of energy, he didn't suppose it mattered terribly when he started feeling sick.

"Kid, this is important, when did you start to feel ill?"

"This- this afternoon." Why was the room spinning?

Enjolras leant forward, placing a hand on Marius' forehead for the second time. He winced at the hot temperature.

"Combeferre?" He asked, getting up and sitting down again, next to the ill boy. "What's wrong with him."

Combeferre shook his head, "I doubt it's serious, but I'm not sure, I don't think he can be alone tonight."

Enjolras stood up, "He can come home with me." He then proceeded to pull the sixteen year old to his feet. "Can you walk?"

Marius nodded wearily, though he wasn't really sure. He felt himself start walking, but he couldn't tell where, the world was turning upside down before his eyes.

It felt like years before Enjolras managed to haul Marius into his flat, though in reality, it was only a matter of minutes. He let him use his bed, the child was sick, and one night in a chair wasn't going to kill him.

"Enjolras?" Marius tried to push himself into a sitting position, without much success.

Enjolras immediately leapt to his feet, placing his hands on Marius' shoulders. "You should be resting."

Marius forced his eyes to stay open, "Why?" He whispered.

Enjolras looked puzzled. "What do you mean? You're ill."

"Why are you helping me?" Marius frowned, "I don't understand-"

Enjolras' expression was unreadable, "Marius, go to sleep."

Marius nodded, and let his eyes close. It wasn't hard to sleep for either student, even Enjolras, in his chair, found his eyelids drooping soon enough.

* * *

Marius woke feeling odd. The sort of feeling one gets when their fever is on the verge of breaking.

"How are you feeling?" Someone asked, and Marius' heart leapt up into his throat, before relaxing. It was only Enjolras.

"Better." He only lied a little.

"Good. General Lamarque's funeral is today."

This statement alone spoke volume.

Marius nodded, "Then we shall build the barricades." He jumped out of bed, "Thank you Enjolras."

Enjolras knew what he meant, and nodded the 'you're welcome.' It had more meaning than perhaps it should have had.

Marius ran out the door and into the crowded streets of Paris. He had to find Cosette, perhaps he would be able to see her. He knew he might die on the barricades, he was young, but he wasn't stupid. He just wanted to say goodbye to Cosette.

* * *

Enjolras watched carefully as the black funeral procesion came closer, they had to time this just right.

"Do you hear the people sing..."

The chant grew louder, and soon the crowds were belting out the well known tune.

Enjolras caught Marius' eye, and the two ran out, each waving a red flag, the colour of the revolution.

More and more students joined them, and Enjolras' eyes widened at the success, for not only were students running out, but the people too. Those stricken with poverty were angry, and they had the right to be, for the king was claiming General Lamarque as his hero.

Even little Gavroche was in the crowd somewhere.

Enjolras glanced up to see the Marius had leaped atop the funeral carriage, and quickly ran to follow him.

Jumping up, he saw that both Courfeyrac and Combeferre had followed him.

Of course, the soldiers had come, they were standing, lined up haphazardly, probably an attempt to create some sort of order within the troups.

Enjolras slowly raised his gun, and glared defiantly at the kings men, he glanced sideways at Marius, and then shifted slightly ahead of him. They would, after all be the first shot at.

The soldier on the far left fired, and Enjolras dragged Marius away from the path of the rapid bullet.

A second shot fired.

A scream.

Suddenly, all was chaos around him. A woman, an elderly Lady had been shot.

Enjolras leapt down to the solid ground, "To the barricades!" He roared. Never in his life had he been so angry. That soldier had been aiming to kill. The woman took a bullet to her heart. If he hadn't pulled Marius away, the shot would have struck his temple.

People were throwing down all their possesions, chairs, tables, someone even threw a piano out their window.

A carriage, a wheelbarrow, a cart. Enjolras could hear the cries, the anger. Dust stirred up in the air, and it stung his eyes

"I need a volunteer!" He cried, "Someone who can find out their plan and when they will attack."

But it seemed as though no-one had heard him. He opened his mouth to yell again, but was interrupted by a hand on his shoulder.

"I can find out the truth. I know their ways. Fought their wars. Served my time."

Enjolras spun around pointing his gun at the hostile unknown. The words spoken had chilled him.

The man who now stood in front of him reeled back, but then leant forward, speaking in a tone of one who had heroically done what was right, "In the days of my youth!"

Enjolras lowered him gun slightly, "You'll do that for us?"

The man smiled, though it didn't quite reach his eyes, Enjolras noticed, "Of course, my boy."

"Good man." Enjolras nodded in gratitude. Here was a man who had experience of the enemy, offering himself up as a spy. Yes. The people were indeed rising up. Perhaps they did have a chance.

* * *

"Listen my friends, I have done what I said. I have counted each man, each musket that they hold."

Marius frowned, Enjolras had told them all everything, but a spy? Really, he didn't trust the so called spy. There was something familiar about the man, the long hair, the pinched face.

"We will be prepared, " Enjolras said quietly, "What are their movements? We shall spoil their game."

The spy shook his head. "Do not fear." He whispered. "There will be no attack tonight. They intend to starve us out, before they start a proper fight. Concentrate their force... Hit us when it's light."

"Liar!"

Marius spun round to see Gavroche leap lightly from atop the trailer, sauntering casually over to the spy, and whistling a light, juanty tune.

"Gavroche?" Enjolras asked they young boy, "What do you mean."

The child gave a light laugh, "Good evening dear Inspector, lovely evening my dear."

Inspector... Inspector...

"I know this man, my friends, his name's Inspector-"

"Javert!" Marius cried, running up to stand next to Enjolras, "I knew it!"

Eponine had always been cautious around any sort of soldier, but she had always ducked out of site whenever this particular one came into view. The strict one. The harsh one.

All of a sudden a fist came out of nowhere and knocked the sixteen year old to the ground. Marius blinked up at the tall Inspector who was towering over him, and shuddered. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Enjolras and Courfeyrac edging up behind the man, intent on, at the very least, knocking him out.

The inspector spoke, his deep words like a second fist in his face, "Your Grandfather has disowned you, boy."

Tears came to Marius' eyes, and he watched Courfeyrac throw the tall soldier against the wall in silence. Someone crouched down in front of him, taking his arms, and lifting him to his feet.

Enjolras.

"It'll be okay, kid."

Marius blinked back the brimming moisture, "I know."

Enjolras smiled, something he did not do very often, "Of course."

"Enjolras?" Marius clenched his fists, "Are we going to die?"

Enjolras stared at Marius, his insides freezing. Marius was just a boy. He didn't seem it, he was insightful, wise, but there were times like this when he would say something, and it would sound so young, so scared, so childlike.

"We might." Enjolras shook his head, he couldn't lie. The guilt lay heavy on his shoulders. All the men on the barricades were there because he had asked them to be. He was the leader, and it was entirely his fault. Marius was young, too young to be there, he thought. Too young to understand the dangers of the barricades.

Old enough to die.

"You shouldn't be here Marius, you're still a child."

Marius squared his shoulders, glaring defiantly up at the taller, older man in front of him, "I want to fight. I want to fight, Enjolras."

"But you shouldn't. You're too young. You should get out of this before it's too late."

"I'm in it as much as you are Enjolras! Even if I didn't stay to help, where would I go? My Grandfather has disowned me, remember?" Marius took a deep, shuddering breath.

Enjolras stared at the boy before him, it was true, where would he go? If life on the streets were better than dying on the barricades, he would have sent Marius away in a heartbeat. But he wasn't so sure, he had seen the suffering of the poor, heard their begging cries, smelt the decaying odour that hung about their filth and grime. Besides, who was he to make Marius go? He had no control over the boy he thought of as a little brother.

That was it. Little brother, because that was what Marius was to him, and he wondered, distractedly, if Marius thought him a brother too.

"Enjolras!"

"Enjolras, they're here!"

Enjolras turned to see the soldiers marching up, stopping just twenty meters from where the barricade stood tall. He tossed Marius a gun loaded with ammunition, and pulled out his own.

Both students took their places alongside the other men. This was it, and Enjolras realized that these might be his last moments with his friends, but he couldn't say anything, couldn't afford to look weak in front of the enemy.

"Aim!" Roared a soldier to the left, probably a general, with his commanding air.

The troups pointed their guns in one single, solitary movement.

"Now it begins." Enjolras muttered.

"Fire!"

A heavy deluge of bullets rained over the top of the barricade, but most were dodged. The few who were wounded backed away, leaving the fighting to their healthier companions.

Enjolras shot at a soldier who was getting dangerously close to the barricade, but more were following. The men beside him were getting desperate. Some were fleeing, but most stayed put with their terrified expressions, and for that he was grateful.

More are more bodies were falling to the ground on either side. Some just wounded, but most dead, and Enjolras was beginning to realize who had the advantage. Some soldiers were bold enough to start climbing the barricade, and he shot at them some more, but they just kept coming. He cried out when a bullet grazed his shoulder, and fell to his knees as he felt the fiery pain blister his skin.

"Marius! Look out!"

He jumped to his feet, Gavroche was yelling, and he looked in time to see a soldier put a gun to Marius' head.

"No!" One single scream. A small boy, who Enjolras had never seen before, dragged the dark metal barrel away from Marius and into himself, just as the shot fired.

Enjolras watched the small boy fall, and someone cried out.

"Fall back!"

He knew that voice.

"Fall back or I blow the barricade!"

Marius.

Armed with a torch, and a barrel of gunpowder.

Enjolras inched ever so slowly up behind the boy.

The soldier nearest made a noise of anger in the back of his throat. "Blow it up and take yourself with it?"

Enjolras' stomach gave a frightening lurch as Marius whispered his next words. "And myself with it."

"Marius!" He hissed.

"Christ." He heard Combeferre whisper in shock.

The soldier's eyes widened as the young boy slowly brought the lighted torch towards the deadly barrel.

"Back!" He cried to his men, "Back!"

The sounds of cantering horses echoed in Enjolras' ears.

He put his arm around Marius and pried the torch from his grip, leading him back down the barricade.

"What were you thinking, Marius?" Courfeyrac exclaimed, darting in front of them, "You could have gotten yourself killed."

"He could have gotten us all killed!" Prouvaire cried. He didn't want to die.

"You saved us." Enjolras said quietly.

Marius wasn't listening, he was running. Running to where the fallen child lay.

"Eponine! What are you doing here?"

"I kept it from you." She whispered, so only he could hear her. "It's from Cosette."

Marius took the parchment, and tucked it into his pocket. He knelt beside the girl. "Eponine, you're hurt!" All the students had stopped, listening to the youngest of them.

The child was a girl, Enjolras realized, no older than fourteen.

"Eponine, what have you done?" Marius cried, tugging at her hands which covered the blood soaked wound.

"Don't you fret, M'sieur Marius. Please, I don't feel any pain." The young girl gave a sudden gasping sound, "I don't feel any p-pain M'sieur."

"You're shivering, Eponine." He whispered, brokenly.

"A little fall of rain, can harly hurt me now M'sieur." The girl cried out as she moved. Her eyes fluttered closed, and Marius realised with a sudden shock that she was dead.

Someone lifted Eponine, and he felt the first tears that day fall. He had always been so good at suppressing them, but as he saw his best friend carried away, limp and unmoving, something inside him crumpled.

Enjolras moved closer to Marius, putting an arm around him, sheltering him from the pouring rain.

"She's in a better place Marius. Much better than this one. She's happy." He whispered, and the sixteen year old sobbed into his shoulder, and Enjolras let him. He let the boy grieve.

* * *

"I come here as a volunteer." A man, dressed in a soldier's uniform ran forward. "Don't shoot!" He pleaded, as the students set their guns toward him. "I can help."

Enjolras glanced at Courfeyrac and Grantaire, the drunkard was surprisingly alert, and nodded to them. Together they pushed away the edge of the barricade, leaving a hair's width of space for the bulky soldier to squeeze through.

The soldier was met with twenty rifles pointed towards him. He placed his hand out, in what might have meant surrender, but Courfeyrac was sure it was simply to placate the armed young men surrounding him.

"You say you're a spy." Prouvaire snarled at the soldier, the eighteen year old sounding quite unlike his usually docile self. "But we've had one of those before."

'This is what happens to the young and innocent.' Courfeyrac thought bitterly, 'They all grow up in war.'

It was true, there were differences in everyone, he noticed. It was more apparent in Marius and Prouvaire, because they were younger, but every one of the Les Amis had changed.

"You see that man over there." Combeferre nodded to where they had tied the errant inspector. "A volunteer like you."

Enjolras ran up and aimed his gun, fully intending on wounding the soldier before him.

"Stop!" A small voice cried. "I know him!"

In the back of his mind, Courfeyrac realised that Marius was nowhere in sight.

The soldier suddenly gave a cry of, "Look out!" and grabbed Prouvaire's rifle, who scowled with all his childish might. A shot fired, and a yell of pain was heard.

Courfeyrac sucked in a sharp breath of shock. There had been a man at the window, but he hadn't paid any attention to him, thinking that he was just another student.

Apparently not.

* * *

"Courfeyrac, you take the watch. They may attack before it's light. Everybody keep the faith, for as sure our banner flies, we are not alone..." Enjolras paused for a moment, "The people too must rise."

He walked over slowly to where Marius was piling the barricade up. He was angry, Enjolras realized.

"Marius." He murmured, putting a hand on the boy's arm, "Rest. There is no need to tire yourself out."

Marius slowly shook his head, "No, I suppose not." He sat down where he stood, and placed his head in his hands.

Enjolras just walked away. Marius needed to be alone.

He walked towards the singing, "Drink with me..."

* * *

Enjolras woke to cries of dismay.

"Everyone left!"

He leapt to his feet and surveyed the area. "We're the only ones." He whispered. A handful of students were all who stood along the barricade, everyone else had deserted them.

Marius was the bearer of more bad news. "Enjolras, the rain destroyed the gunpowder."

Enjolras just nodded distracted. How could they hope to win with just thirteen of them?

"I'm going into the colony, there'll be dead bodies there, dry ammunition."

He snapped back to reality and caught Marius by the collar, "No, it's too dangerous."

Marius pulled free, "We need more ammunition." He started climbing up, over the barricade, but was thwarted by Prouvaire, who grabbed the smaller boy by the arm and shoved him back down.

"Are you insane?" He hissed. "They'll kill you."

"Gavroche!"

The three students turned to see Combeferre, white faced, desperately leaning over the barricade, "Gavroche, come back!"

A sick sort of feeling grew in Enjolras, and he raced toward Combeferre in a sudden burst of adrenaline, only half aware of Marius sprinting in the opposite direction.

It only took one glance over the barricade decorated in red for his worst fears to become realised. His insides froze, and then somersaulted in sheer horror.

"Gavroche!"

Gavroche looked up from collecting bullets in a sack. He smiled up at Enjolras.

Enjolras frantically motioned for him to turn towards him. The enemy was stirring, they had seen Gavroche.

A sudden shot fired, and Gavroche jerked with a cry of pain.

Someone ran out beside little Gavroche, and caught him.

A second shot fired.

Gavroche fell dead.

The figure got up with Gavroche in his arms and ran away, back towards the barricades.

Enjolras fell backwards in shock. He was aware of the wails of grief that came from everyone around him, but he couldn't cry, he could barely move.

Gavroche was _dead._

Somehow, this was even worse than the death of Eponine Thenardier. Their littlest revolutionary_ dead._

Someone was coming forward, and Enjolras forced himself to his knees.

The person, carrying the limp body of Gavroche, staggered, and Courfeyrac launched himself over to catch them.

Enjolras then realised who it was.

Marius.

He leapt to his feet. The boy was sobbing- of course he was. Gavroche had been shot in his arms.

Enjolras grabbed Marius in a rough hug, and the boy bawled into his shirt. He didn't care. Soon, his shirt would be stained with blood.

"You at the barricades listen to this!"

Enjolras let Marius go and rushed up the barricade.

"The people of Paris sleep in their beds."

The Army general was adressing them.

"You have no chance! No chance at all. Why throw your lives away?"

The General sounded sad. Maybe, Marius thought, they did have hearts.

Enjolras was stony faced. "Let us die facing out foes! Make them bleed while we can."

Marius felt a flash of admiration for Enjolras, who had thrown the nonsense sadness back in the general's face.

"Make them pay through the nose!"

"Make them pay for every man."

"Let others rise to take our place, until the earth is free!"

The National Guard seemed to rear up, before the leader cried something Marius never expected.

"Canons!"

There was yelling and screaming, and the blasts of the canons that ripped their barricade to shreds.

Everyone was banging at the doors, pleading.

"Marius!"

He heard Enjolras calling his name, and turned to see him standing in the doorway of some kind soul, who'd agreed to help the revolutionaries. Marius started to run towards him.

A sudden shot fired, and then a sharp pain in his ribs.

He fell to the floor, clutching his side.

"Marius!"

This time it was a different voice who called him, as his eyes closed, he felt someone lift him from the ground.

Then all he knew was black.

* * *

Enjolras couldn't bear to close the door with Marius out there, but he had to. The likelihood that the boy had in fact survived a shot like that was very low, and he felt tears come to his eyes at the very thought. Marius could not get back up, and going out there now would be suicide.

The old woman who had saved them, ushered them into another room. She told them that they could not stay in the house, that there was a door out back that would lead them to the street behind them.

They thanked the woman profusely and left.

The survivors were Enjolras, Courfeyac, and Jean Prouvaire.

Combeferre was killed by a soldier that Enjolras recognised as his second cousin.

Bahorel and Grantaire were murdered with the same shot. The bullet passing through both of them.

Joly and Lesgle had been among those hit by the cannons.

Marius... Enjolras shuddered. Marius was most likely dead. The kid had fallen, he had seen it happen. It would have taken a miracle for the boy to have survived.

Falling to his knees, Enjolras couldn't seem to hold back the tears that had been threatening since he'd seen Marius shot. He started to sob into the cold ground. This ground had not been bloodied by the dead. It remained fresh, green with grass.

Dead.

They weren't any more then children, really, none of them were. Not Grantaire, not Joly...

Not even Enjolras himself.

He was only half aware of someone rubbing his back, murmuring soothing, soft words in his ear. He couldn't seem to work out what they were saying. He cried, and clung to them tightly, and knew at once that this was Courfeyrac. No-one else would have known what to do, except maybe Combeferre.

But Combeferre was...

No.

He wouldn't think about it.

He heard Courfeyrac talking to Jehan, and someone else, who he was sure had not been with them.

He tried to listen, but he was trembling too much to do even that. He only caught snippets of the conversation.

"...dead..."

"...please..."

"...help you... place to stay..."

Then Enjolras felt himself being lifted by someone who was definitely not Courfeyrac, but before he could even begin to care, he drifted into a listless sleep.

* * *

Enjolras woke in a strange room, with a strange man hovering over him, so it wasn't surprising that the first words that came out of his mouth were:

"Who are you? Where am I?"

The stranger smiled, "I am Monsieur Fauchlevent. You are at my house. Do not worry." He held up a hand when Enjolras opened his mouth, "You and your friends are safe here."

Enjolras shut his mouth.

"Do you know Marius?" Monsieur Fauchelevent asked.

Enjolras' breathing quickened. The man had asked whether the knew Marius. He had used 'do' instead of 'did.'

That meant...

"Do you- do you mean to say that- that Marius might be... alive?"

Monsieur Fauchlevent nodded to the boy lying on the bed. "Yes. He is alive, and is currently recovering at his Grandfathers house."

Enjolras sat up, and attemped to swing his legs out of bed, but they seemed too heavy. "I have to see him. Please!"

Monsieur Fauchlevent shook his head. "You've been ill, boy. Exhaustion. You need rest."

He stood, and left, leaving Enjolras with only his thoughts for company.

* * *

Marius glanced around the remnants of the Cafe. Staring at the corner, he swallowed his tears, as he imagined _them _there_._

He heard the creaking noise of someone walking up the stairs.

"Marius."

He froze. That voice... he didn't move.

"Marius!" The voice was more insistent, "Turn around, mon ami!"

Marius trembled. He felt more afraid than he ever had in his short sixteen years of life. More frightened of this- this.. _ghost_, than the barricade.

"Marius."

His imagination. He wished he didn't have one.

"Please kiddo, just turn around."

Shutting his eyes tight, he moved so that when he opened his eyes, he would be able to see the... person.

If there was one.

He took a deep breath and opened his eyes, he had to be brave.

His bottom lip quivered as he reached towards the ghost. The ghost that looked far too real to be a ghost.

He grasped the ghost's hand. The hand was solid, warm.

Human.

With a choked sob, Marius flung himself into the arms of Enjolras, who wrapped him tight in an embrace.

"I thought you weren't real." He whispered. "I thought that you were a ghost."

Enjolras said nothing, simply tightened his hold.

"I thought I was alone." Marius shuddered. "That you were my imagination."

"I'm sorry." It was the first thing that came to Enjolras' mind, "You're like a brother to me kiddo, I couldn't lose you."

"You're my brother, even if not by blood." Marius sobbed into Enjolras' shirt. "I wish we'd never built that stupid barricade."

Enjolras sank to the ground, bringing Marius with him, in pain, and in grief.

And maybe, a little hope.

Hope for a better future, for sometimes things do not prevail on first attempts. Sometimes not even on second.

But someday, oneday, France would be free.

Sometime, someday.

* * *

**The end! :)**


End file.
